


Atlas Lodge

by PunkInPinkGlitter



Series: Shance fics [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Shiro gets hurt, Shiro is oblivious, Skiing, Snow Shenanigans, Snowball Fight, he's looking at lance, snow lodge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkInPinkGlitter/pseuds/PunkInPinkGlitter
Summary: Shiro and Lance have a relaxing time at the Atlas Lodge.  Mostly.





	Atlas Lodge

**Author's Note:**

> For the Shance Support Squad discord Holiday Exchange, I got [Ezra](http://ezrazzle.tumblr.com/)!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! :D

Shiro cut the car off as they pulled into the recently snow-cleared parking lot.  He poked Lance’s shoulder with a frozen metal finger.

“Hey, we’re here.”

Lance startled awake, trying to pull away from the cold, drool-slicked window while avoiding Shiro’s prosthetic finger.  “Whaa, where?” he slurred, still trying to shake the sleep from his voice.

Shiro chuckled as he lowered his hand.  “The ski lodge? You even picked out the one you wanted us to go to.”

Lance looked around, blinking.  Oh yeah. He had done that, hadn’t he?  He took in the parking lot, surrounded by blinding white glittering snow.  Lance looked back at Shiro, his eyes shining. “Holy crow, Shiro, I’m so excited for this!”

He bounced out of the car, barely waiting for Shiro to follow.  Shiro grabbed the bags, trying not to slip on the icy pavement as he trailed Lance up to the lodge.  Lance held the door open, waiting impatiently for his lover to get in the lodge so they could get checked in.

The woman at the front desk looked up, uninterested, from her phone.  “Welcome to Atlas Lodge,” she said with a monotone voice. “Do you have a reservation?  If not you need to leave because there’s no vacancy.”

“Rude.”  Lance whispered under his breath.  Shiro quickly coughed to cover up Lance’s comment.

“Yes, we have a reservation.”  Shiro dropped one of the bags to reach for his wallet, taking out his ID.  “Under Shirogane.”

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes as she tapped away at the computer to the side of her.  Spotting their reservation, she reached back, grabbed a large metal key, and slid it across the desk at them.

“Take a left out of the door, take the trail all the way down, it’s about a mile down the road.  Last cabin on the left, you have the whole thing for the next three nights. Be sure to drop off the key before you leave, or you will be charged an extra $100.  Do not lose the key, or you will be charged $100 dollars. There’s breakfast and dinners compliments of Atlas Lodge every day,” she seemed to muster the strength to slide a pamphlet across the desk next to the key.  “Times and meals revolve weekly and are listed here. Activities listed in the pamphlet are free to patrons and we encourage you to come and have a fun time. Please enjoy your stay at the Atlas Lodge.” She turned back to her phone, promptly ending the conversation.

Lance looked at Shiro, who shrugged and picked the bags back up.  Lance grabbed the key and paper she gave them and followed Shiro.

Once out of earshot, Lance huffed.  “How rude was she?!”

Shiro shrugged again.  “I mean, she could have been nicer, but hey.  We’re here, and we’re getting a secluded cabin.”  He put the bags back in the car- there was no way in hell he was going to carry everything for a mile.  Shiro shut the trunk, walking over and wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist. “We’ll do whatever you want after we get unpacked.”

Lance wiggled around out of Shiro’s grasp.  “Sure sure. Let’s get going; it’s cold out here.”

Shiro snickered as Lance shuffled into the car.  This was going to be fun.

It took them no time at all to find the cabin and unpack the car.  Lance stood in the living room, looking at the brochure they had been handed earlier.

“They have designated times and places for snowball fights, are you kidding me?”

Shiro snickered as he plucked the paper out of Lance’s hand.  “Lemme see. The next one starts tomorrow at ten. Wanna do that then try skiing after lunch?”

Lance whooped and jumped, punching the air.  “I’m so down with beating your ass in the snowball fight!  And I’ve never skied before, have you?”

“Nope.  But I think we’ll be fine.  Come on, we can go on a hike for now until it gets dark, and then get some dinner.”

They took their time that evening, just enjoying each other’s presence.  They left the fire roaring as they slept, waking to dead embers. They moved slowly around each other, getting dressed and doing their morning bathroom rituals.  They went to the restaurant the Lodge offered, eating unhurriedly from the massive buffet of breakfast items. Lance looked at the time on his phone and bounced excitedly.

“Shiro!  It’s almost time for the snowball fight!”

Shiro looked up from the remains of his omelette.  “Calm down. We have plenty of time. Also, I’m gonna beat your ass.  The one with the most hits wins.”

Lance gasped, bringing an hand up to his chest in mock affront when Shiro winked at him.  He shoved Shiro’s shoulder playfully. “You’re on, hot stuff.”

They meandered over to the snowball field, which only had two other people on it.  They were apparently the referees, dressed in red and black stripes and looking as bored as they could be.  There were walls of snow and ravines to hide in, buckets of snowballs scattered throughout the field. Shiro looked down at the buckets and back at Lance.

“I guess we won’t be doing this the old school way.”

Lance shrugged.  “I can’t make snowballs anyway, so I’m good being on even ground now.”

It was Shiro’s turn to gasp.  “For all your trash talk, I thought you could make them.”

Lance strolled away shoving his hands in his pockets.  Shiro stood stunned watching him, but shook it off, jogging to catch up in front of the referees.

“Welcome to the Atlas Lodge snowball fight.” the first one rattled off.  “You are the only ones here, so you have the entire field to yourselves for fifteen minutes.”

“Atlas Lodge will not be responsible for any injuries incurred by this snowball fight.”  The second piped in. “When we blow the whistle, you will have five minutes to hide and collect snowballs.  The second whistle will blow when you’re allowed to start the fight, and a third whistle will be blown when it’s time to stop.”

“Do not throw rocks or sticks, or add them to the snowballs already made.  Do not throw snowballs at anyone or anything not participating in the fight or off the field.  Do you understand the rules?”

Lance and Shiro nodded, looking slyly at each other.

“Your five minutes start now.”  The second referee blew their whistle, which sent Shiro and Lance sprinting to opposite sides of the snowball field.

Lance grabbed as many buckets of snowballs as he could carry, hiding out behind a snow wall and the dugouts on either side.  He kept going out and grabbing more, hoping to be able to outdo Shiro by sheer number. Even though his aim with a rifle was amazing, he still wasn’t as great a shot as Shiro when it came to throwing things by hand.

He peaked out from behind the wall to try to catch a glimpse of his lover across the field.  It was too quiet, though. No sounds of snow crunching underfoot, no buckets moving, no heavy breathing other than his own.

Lance looked up and down the field.  There wasn’t even a fleeting glimpse of his black jacket that he always wore.

A shrill whistle pierced the air again.  Lance turned towards the noise when a bored voice said “Snowball fight begins now, you have ten minutes.”

With no warning, a snowball hit Lance in the back of his head, knocking him forward.

He turned around wide eyed, when a second hit him square in the nose.

“TAKASHI!” he shrieked.  He laughed and dove behind the snow wall he had built a base at.

He heard laughing at the far end of the field and lobbed a few snowballs in that direction.  He couldn’t be sure if Shiro was even still there. Damn this man’s Legloas-like feet. He never left a trail and couldn’t be heard.  It was unnatural that someone of Shiro’s size could be so light footed. He peaked out from behind the wall and a third snowball smacked him in the side of his face, barely missing his nose.

“You’ll pay for that!” he shouted.

He slid into the dugout, happy that this one stretched all the way down the field.  He grabbed a bucket of snowballs and tried to quietly make his way down the dugout. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that Shiro was two steps ahead of him.

He had set traps.

Lance stepped down on what only looked like snow to hear a loud snap.  There were twigs buried in the snow. He looked up in fear to see three snowballs flying through the air all coming his way.  He grabbed his bucket and ran back to his mock-fort.

Breathing heavily, he chuckled.  Of course, that’s what he’d been doing.  He’d been setting traps while Lance had only been concerned about gathering balls.

Lance chanced another peak and caught a glimpse of Shiro’s black jacket slightly poking out from behind another snow wall, Shiro trying but failing to hide behind it.

Lance grabbed a few snowballs and ran full speed across the field at Shiro.

“AHA!” He yelled, rounding the wall, arm up ready to lob a ball at Shiro.  But instead of finding Shiro, he saw a snowman wearing Shiro’s jacket.

Oh no.

He spun around in time to get pelted with snowballs.  Four hitting him in his chest and stomach before he collapsed in a heap.

He heard Shiro’s giggling before he felt Shiro’s mass move over him.

“Hey baby,” Shiro breathed.  “Enjoying yourself?”

Lance let himself be turned over.  He let out a small giggle. “Of course I am.”  His hand twitched around the lone snowball he managed to keep intact.  “I’m winning.”

Shiro cocked his head to the side.  “Babe, I’ve hit you with like, nine snowballs already.”

Lance slowly snaked his arm out from under Shiro.  “All I need is one.” he said cheekily.

A look of confusion crossed Shiro’s face as Lance smirked.  Recognition barely sparked behind Shiro’s eyes before Lance smacked him in the cheek with his final snowball.

They laid there in shock for a moment before Shiro burst out into laughter, dropping his head onto Lance’s shoulder.

Lance chuckled at Shiro, rubbing his shoulders as the other shook laughing.  “Takashi,” he whispered. “Maybe you should put your jacket back on. Also, you’re squishing me.”

Shiro lifted himself back up, an involuntary shiver running up his spine.  “Yeah, probably.” He got up and put his jacket back on before helping Lance back to his feet.

They walked hand in hand up the field and nodded at the referees.

One tried to protest, but the other just put a hand on the first’s shoulder and shook their head.  It wasn’t their place. It’s not like they wouldn’t get paid anyway.

Lance and Shiro wandered the grounds until they found the Lodge again.  They asked the front desk woman about skiing, and she, as uninterested as the first time she talked to them, told them where to rent skis and how to get to the lifts.

It took over an hour to rent the skis.

“Cause why?  Do they only hire teenagers that actually don’t care that they have a job?” Lance scoffed as they left the rental area.

They made their way to the lifts area carrying the skis, Lance chatting away the whole time.

“I’ve never skied before,” Shiro said once they were on the lifts.

“Neither have I,” quipped Lance.  “I grew up on the ocean, remember?  We’ll be fine. You master pretty much everything put in front of you.  Remember the Rubik's cube?”

Shiro smirked.  Lance had gotten him a Rubik’s cube as a joke birthday present earlier that year, and within three minutes, Shiro had solved it.  Every time Lance messed it up, Shiro would solve it like it was nothing.

“Yeah, but maybe we should have had lessons?”

“The pamphlet said they have instructors teaching the basics every thirty minutes, and I figure we’re gonna be dropped off at right before the half hour, so we can get a quick lesson without the wait.”

Shiro nodded, the stiffness releasing from his body.  “I guess that’s better than nothing.”

The lift dropped them at the top of the mountain.  Lance looked around for the instructor, and found him, of course, playing on his phone.  They walked up to him, and coughed to get his attention.

“I’ll help you get your skis on and show you what position you need to be in and how to stop.  That’s all I get paid to do.”

Shiro’s eyes widened as Lance quickly agreed.

“Lance, I think we should just go back down.”  The man buckled Shiro’s ski boots into their positions on the skis.

“Nah, we’ll be fine.  We’ll take the beginner’s trail and we’ll know how to stop.  We don’t need anything else, right?”

The instructor buckled Lance into his skis.  He stood up, and spoke, his weariness bleeding through his voice.  “If you want to stop, point the ends of your skis together, basically into a pizza wedge.  When you want to go, skis parallel, knees bent, poles tucked.” He demonstrated the positions as he talked, Shiro and Lance absorbing the small pieces of information.  “Beginner trail is right over there,” he pointed to the trail off to their right. “Stay on the trail with the big green dot. Keep space between you so you don’t get tangled and in an accident.  Good luck.”

With that, the instructor, if you could call him that, resumed his original position with his nose in his phone.

Shiro and Lance slowly shuffled their way to the trail next to the sign they had been pointed towards, happy that it seemed like no one else was around to see them slipping and falling everywhere.

They stood at the top of the slope just staring.  Shiro shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the lack of instruction.  It didn’t stop Lance though. He turned towards Shiro, gave him a small salute and said “See you at the bottom, baby.”

With that, Lance shot off.  Shiro always knew he was a natural with water, but now it seemed it didn’t matter whether the water was warm or frozen.  He had a grace about him and moved like he was swimming.

Shiro started haltingly, stopping and starting, not wanting to go above a snail’s pace in terms of speed.  A little of the way down, Lance had stopped on the side, waiting for his boyfriend. It took maybe two or three minutes, but Shiro finally made it to Lance’s spot.

“Baby, you really need to hurry up.  How about this: I’ll slow down if you speed up.”

Shiro nodded slightly.  He was more scared of falling than anything, but he knew Lance wouldn’t laugh at him if he did.

They resumed their skiing, Shiro now able to keep up with Lance.  They meandered down the path, their speed increasing as they went.

Shiro looked over at Lance.  Lance had an ethereal look around him, even if he was all bundled up with coats and scarves and goggles.  He listened to Lance laughing, the thrill of doing something new always made Lance laugh. Shiro watched as Lance looked back at him, smiling shyly, then back at the trail.  Lance’s face morphed into one of shock as he turned back to Shiro. Shiro looked back in front of him as he heard Lance yell.

It’s the last thing Shiro remembers as he skied face first into a tree.

He came to as Lance hovered over him, their skis thrown to the side as Lance fussed around.

“Shiro!  Shit, baby, I need you to talk to me!”

Shiro groaned as he looked up at Lance.  “What happened?”

Lance hugged Shiro quickly.  “Don’t scare me like that! Oh my god, Shiro!  You skied into a tree! You’re nose is bleeding!  It might be broken.” He started crying into Shiro’s chest.

Shiro sat up slowly, cautious of his spinning head.  “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way.”

Lance nodded, and handed Shiro one of his scarves to hold against his nose.  He picked up the skis, and slung Shiro’s arm around his shoulders, more for being able to direct him easier than to ease weight off a limb.

After a 10 minute walk, they made it to the bottom.  They returned the skis, and the person at the rental desk called the on-call paramedic.

Luckily, he was the only person who wasn’t uninterested in their job.  He looked Shiro over, removing the now blood soaked scarf and slivers of bark from Shiro’s cheeks and nose.

“It doesn’t look broken, but the bleeding has stopped, so that’s good.  You also may have a mild concussion. I suggest you go back to wherever you’re staying and rest the rest of the day.  Keep the wounds clean and take some pain medicine if you can. If you’re still having problems or are still in pain tomorrow even through the pain relievers, go to a doctor.”

The man handed them some ibuprofen, and Lance muttered an, “of course,” as he and Shiro left going back to their cabin, Shiro dry swallowing the pills.

Lance called the Atlas Lodge and asked for a shuttle back to their cabin from the ski slopes-- something they offered in the brochure they were handed.  After a back and forth with the front desk woman  _ and _ the manager, they were brought back to their cabin, though very reluctantly.  Shiro’s head throbbed each time they hit a bump on the road, nuzzling gently into Lance’s shoulder as Lance cussed at the driver.

They were let out of the car with a roll of the eyes by the driver and a very highly raised finger by Lance.  Shiro unlocked the door and bumbled to their room. He collapsed on the bed, mindful of his nose. Lance sat on the edge of the bed, a hand rubbing up and down Shiro’s back.

“One star.”  mumbled Shiro turning his head to look at Lance.

“Oh god, none of the reviews said anything about this.  I’m so sorry, sweetie.” He leaned down and kissed Shiro’s temple.  “Anything I can get or do for you?”

Shiro groaned.  “Just some water.  I think I’m just going to sleep until we leave tomorrow.”

Lance nodded and got some water for Shiro before retiring to the small cabin living room to watch tv.  His vacation didn’t go as planned, but at least they made memories. And what more could he ask for?


End file.
